


Halloween

by Hope



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack Fic, Crossdressing, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-11
Updated: 2006-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hope/pseuds/Hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So monkeycrackmary said, Has anyone in the Supernatural fandom written a story wherein Sam's decision not to dress up for Halloween is based not on his rejection of the holiday but rather on traumatic childhood memories of being forced to dress up like a female medical student for demon-hunting purposes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halloween

*

He wants to laugh, really he does, and after all, isn't that what that fluttery sensation rising up from the base of his throat is? Laughter. Right.

Only Dean's not laughing, and that in itself is enough to flip Sam's stomach the hell over, make the back of his neck prickle against the stiff synthetic collar. Because the nylon stockings are catching on the fine hair on his inner thighs, and the unfamiliar cut of fabric is pulling and itching in all the wrong places but he can't move because if he does then _something_'s going to go wrong (or _more_ wrong), or fall off, or come un-buttoned.

Dean should be laughing. Because if Dean's laughing then Sam's whining, rolling his eyes, plotting payback; and for once in his life Sam wants nothing more than for that to be the inevitable course of action. He can see Dean's face in the shadows to his right, only movement his eyes flickering from Sam and away and back again with clear, considered intent, hands steady wrapped around the butt of the rifle. His stillness is just as familiar, just as _Dean_, and would be just as reassuring as the laughter except any possible reassurance Sam might feel right now is somewhat negated by the fact that he's wearing a skirt. Or a dress, to be more precise.

And dammit, his knees are cold.

And this might be one big universal joke, and Sam might have been laughing about it himself from the start, only it was Dad who outlined the plan, and complete lack of humour with which he told Sam that no, he couldn't wear his jeans under it was enough to nip in the bud any possibility that they were having him on.

It was Halloween, after all, and Sam knew from many memorable years' worth of experience that it was a holiday Dean relished, or rather one he relished tormenting Sam with. And somewhere along the line Dean's concept of normal annual holidays had been severely derailed -- either that or Dean's sense of humour is made up of a tireless irony, because since that year he came home from school wearing a varsity jacket, Sam's convinced his brother's mixing it up with April Fool's day.

The hat's sliding off his hair, nothing much to properly anchor it to in the first place, and Sam lifts his hand to adjust it before he's even thought about it, cold air even colder against the clammy skin of his palm. Dean glances over at the movement, and his teeth gleam in the low light. Not entirely without amusement, then.

**Author's Note:**

> http://hopeful-fiction.livejournal.com/41585.html


End file.
